XII.
How oft of dormouse, badger, or of bear,
The heavy slumber would she fain partake!
For she that time in sleep would waste and wear;
Nor such prolonged repose desired to break;
Nor wished the damsel any sound to hear,
Untill Rogero’s voice should her awake:
But not alone is this beyond her power;
She cannot close her eyes one single hour.
XIII.
She here and there, throughout the livelong night,
Tosses and turns, nor ever finds repose;
And still, impatient for the dawn of light,
From time to time she to her window goes,
To see if Tithon’s spouse the lily white
Yet scatters mingled with the crimson rose.
Nor less desires the damsel, when ’tis morn,
To see the golden stars the heavens adorn.
XIV.
When, saving some four days, the term was ended,
Appointed for the youthful warrior’s stay,
She, full of hope, the messenger attended
From hour to hour, that should arrive, and say,
“Behold Rogero comes;” and oft ascended
A turret, from whose top she might survey
Gay champaign, wood, and, mid the wide expanse,
A portion of the road, that led to France.
